Babysitters
by supercasey
Summary: No one should be made to watch Bruce and Selina while Alfred is away, but unfortunately, different people somehow get their hands on them. Some enjoy spending time with the kids more than others.


**Babysitters**

 **Description: No one should be made to watch Bruce and Selina while Alfred is away, but unfortunately, different people somehow get their hands on them. Some enjoy spending time with the kids more than others.**

 **A/N: I haven't written a Gotham fic in awhile, huh?**

* * *

 **~Riddler~**

"Give. Them. Back."

The words weren't as rarely said by James Gordon as one might expect, though he certainly used them under different circumstances more often, like ones where Edward Nygma hadn't kidnapped Bruce and Selina while Jim was supposed to be watching them. Nonetheless, the words left Jim's mouth with disdain, and he gave Nygma a harsh glare for his trouble. Hours ago, Alfred Pennyworth had requested for the detective to watch Bruce and Selina while he was out shopping, but sadly, James had had a bad string of cases, and had entrusted the children's protection with Bullock… obviously, that was a poor decision on Jim's part.

Currently, Nygma, the kidnapper of sorts, was sitting peacefully in his office reading out-loud from a book. Bruce was sitting in a guest chair in front of the desk, while Selina laid half asleep on the desk itself. Nygma didn't comment on or acknowledge Selina's state of consciousness nor the fact that she was lying on his desk, but rather seemed amused by the girl's behavior and occasionally handed her tiny, wrapped up candies from his desk. Bruce was being very polite, sitting up straight with one hand on his lap, the other holding up a lollypop he occasionally sucked on.

"Answer me this, Mr Gordon. I take what you receive and surrender it all by waving my flag. What am I?" Was Nygma's only reply, a sly smile on his face. He didn't even look up from his book, where Jim figured he got the riddle from.

Immediately, Bruce threw up his hand, looking eager. When Jim failed to respond, Nygma gave Bruce an encouraging nod. "A mailbox." He confirmed with a matter-of-fact smile.

Nygma seemed both proud and amused. "Correct, Bruce." He replied, grinning up at Jim. "Adolescents are amazing, don't you think? They can answer questions far faster than most adults, and are more than often correct. Outside the box thinkers."

Jim groaned, taking a seat in a chair that was stationed along the office's wall. He put his head in his hands, looking defeated. "I don't even want to KNOW how you bribed them into your office… where the Hell is Bullock?"

"Picking up girls." Selina answered, not even looking up at Jim. She had her hood over her eyes, with her legs dangling over the edge of the desk. She appeared bored, and more than likely was, considering her company.

"He said he was working a case." Bruce corrected, not looking as unfaithful towards the other detective as Selina. He seemed perfectly content chatting with Nygma, something Jim took a mental note of. "Mr. Nygma kindly let us stay in his office until you or Mr. Bullock returned."

"Here's another riddle: I'm light as a feather, yet the strongest man can't hold me for more than five minutes. What am I?" Nygma spoke up, once again drawing everyone's attention.

As Bruce raised his hand again, Jim answered. "Oxygen." He spat out, sounding both frustrated and exhausted, which he had every right to be. He'd nearly fainted when he returned from his case to find both Selina AND Bruce gone.

Nygma nodded, ignoring Bruce as he stared at the floor with disappointment in his russet brown eyes. "Correct, Mr. Gordon. Perhaps you'd like to join us for a few games, hm?"

"Thanks but no thanks." Jim muttered back, standing up and putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder, his other hand shaking Selina's knee to gain her attention. "Come on, I'm taking you two home. Alfred should be back by now."

"Sweet." Selina answered, looking pleased as punch to finally be free. She hopped off the table effortlessly, already heading towards the door. "You coming, kid?"

"Just one sec, Cat!" Bruce warned, before turning to Nygma, giving him a warm, hopeful smile. "Thank you for telling me all those riddles, Mr. Nygma. I hope you'll let me talk to you again sometime!"

"Not a problem at all!" Nygma assured the boy, returning the smile as he waved goodbye. "Goodbye now! And goodbye to you too, Mr. Gordon."

As Gordon started to head out the door, he stopped, turning to give Nygma one of his most viscous glares. "When I get back, you and I are gonna talk about why it's not okay to kidnap kids and personal space." With that, he slammed the door shut.

Nygma merely hummed, listening to Detective Gordon as his hastened footsteps drew distant, before chuckling to himself, so giddy with glee he almost began to spin in his wheely chair. "What an interesting young boy. I expect great things from him." He picked up the notebook Bruce had left in his office, flipping it open to see a symbol. It was a bat, with a yellow oval background. "Oh yes… I expect very great things from you, Bruce. I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other again very soon." With that, he continued to look through the notebook, entertained in silence by his latest visitor's fascinating mind and artwork.

* * *

 **~Penguin~**

Really, it was just extremely bad luck that Penguin happened to grab Bruce as his first hostage during a raid at a drug store, and even worse luck that he grabbed Selina on the way to the club. However, that in no way changed the fact that Penguin was stuck with Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle until the smoke could clear. He'd only been robbing the place to restock on some much needed alcohol for the club, but it seemed fate had other plans. As it was, Jim Gordon had yet to arrive to retrieve the two children, but judging by how angry he'd sounded about the news, Penguin had a sinking feeling that he'd regret having snatched the young twosome.

Selina looked downright infuriated, kicking Butch in the leg continuously. It was a miracle the man had been told to leave her be, or else he would've killed her by then. Bruce looked more nervous, but not quite afraid. He was definitely shook up. Bruce was seated at one of the small tables of the club, watching a young, female singer sing an older 20's song. Penguin sat beside Bruce, glaring at the floor with spite. He really didn't want to be where he was, waiting for Gordon to come charging in like a bull for kidnapping two children he'd made perfectly clear on a number of occasions to not be messed with.

"Mr. Penguin," Bruce suddenly spoke up, snapping Penguin out of his thoughts. "May I ask when Mr. Gordon will come and get us? I'm worried about my butler."

"I assure you, he will be here any moment." Penguin answered, looking very close to choking the young boy. "That was my reply to you after he called, and my reply to you the last twenty times you've asked. So, five minutes from now, when you ask me again, he will STILL be on his way, and he will STILL be here any moment."

For a long time, Bruce was silent, before he once again spoke. "… Did he say WHEN exactly he'd be here?" He asked, not looking nearly as intimidated by the Penguin as the mobster had originally hoped.

Penguin sat there, quietly fuming as he gripped the table like a lifeline. "Butch, if Mr. Gordon does not arrive in the next ten minutes, take them into the back and smother them please."

"Smother who now?"

Penguin jumped out of his seat, swinging around to give Jim and Bullock a big, terrified smile. "M-M-Mr. Gordon! We've been waiting for you! You have no IDEA how worried I was that you might not come, little Bruce here was terrified. Isn't that right, Bruce?" He grabbed Bruce, hugging the boy tightly, painfully so, ignoring the way the boy squirmed in his grip. "Oh yes, he's been SO worried about you!"

Selina ceased her kicking, looking towards Gordon and Bullock. Butch took that as his sign to abscond, limping to the backroom as he rubbed at his more than likely badly bruised shin. The street girl smirked as she heard the backroom door slam shut, and strode right over to face Gordon head on, unafraid of what might happen. "Sup, Gordon." She greeted, still wearing that almost terrifying smirk. "Took ya long enough."

"I-I'm sure he was just busy with a case!" Bruce managed, still being held painfully tight by Penguin, who seemed convinced that Bruce was the one thing keeping Jim from walking over and kicking his ass. He more than likely was. "Mr. Penguin, please, you can let go now!" The man obeyed, if only because Jim shot him an angry look.

Immediately, Bruce hurried to stand beside Jim, giving Penguin a harsh glare of his own. It would've been more terrifying, had he not been a child. "Look, Penguin. I'm not in the mood to beat your ass all because ya kidnapped two stupid kids-" Bullock began, stepping forward, as if he was in-charge of the situation.

"-I can tell you, I'M in the mood to beat his ass." Jim promised, looking livid as all Hell. It wasn't often that Bullock played good cop for Jim, but it happened enough times for it to be spoken of as a terrifying phenomenon, one that usually ended with lots of bruises and bullet wounds. "What were you even thinking grabbing them!? Bruce I can almost understand- he's an important public figure to the people- but Selina!? That's going too far, Penguin."

"I-I can assure you, Detective, I never meant to cause any harm!" Penguin promised, backing away a step at a time from the angry police officer. "It was a heat-of-the-moment decision! As a police officer- and might I say, a very good one at that- I'm sure you can understand taking rather drastic measures while under fire!"

Jim Gordon was quiet for a long time, more than likely considering whether or not he should really try anything with the Penguin over this. No doubt it would cause him some trouble down the road either way- Bruce was by no doubts shooken up enough as it was, and there was no need to scare him or Selina (No matter how well she hid it) anymore than he had to- yet it seemed unjust to let it simply slide. As Jim looked around, he recognized a few things that definitely suggested that the two children had caused Penguin some damage. Butch had reappeared, holding an icepack to his beaten shin, while Penguin was trying to hide just how furious he probably was. It gave Jim an idea, an evil one at that.

"Tell ya what, Penguin. I'll let you keep the liquor and I won't press charges-" Jim paused, trying to appear done to Penguin. It worked like a charm.

"-Oh, thank you, Mr. Gordon!" Penguin immediately cheered, coming to shake the detective's hand rapidly, hardly believing that he'd gotten off so easily with his crime.

"But-" Penguin let go, suddenly recognizing that evil little note in Gordon's voice, the one he used when he was pleased with a usually downright dastardly idea he'd come up with. "-You have to babysit for me. I'm sure you understand, making heat-of-the-moment decisions while more or less under fire. In this case, I've got a butler whose been requesting I watch two troublesome kids, but I haven't the time. Maybe we can work something out… where you watch Bruce and Selina here in your club with Bullock. You see, I can't trust him alone with them, but with the two of you, I'm sure it'll be just fine."

As Jim explained all this, Penguin took a seat in his chair again, head in hands. He didn't cry- he probably would, once his debt was repaid and it was him on the receiving end of Selina's irritated kicking- but for now, he simply reeked of defeat, not even looking up as Jim more or less schooled him with the terms of his repayment. In the meantime, Bullock was chuckling under his breath, quietly glad to see Jim acting a little mischievous and dastardly for once. But in the back, Bruce and Selina exchanged a look, not looking very happy with the idea of Mr. Cobblepot babysitting them, especially since it meant Bullock would be there, too. Bruce sighed, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"This is such a stupid idea." Selina announced, because what was Jim even thinking, giving them to Penguin for a day? That would be Hell for everyone involved. "Hey, Bruce, I think we should work on a little… revenge. What do say, partner?"

Bruce smirked a little, a bit of his own deviousness coming to life. If anyone was to blame, it was Gordon for inspiring him. "Sounds… interesting. What do you have in mind?" He figured Selina already had an idea if she was suggesting it.

Selina hummed, tapping her foot in thought. "Hm… how about we kick Penguin and Bullock in the shin, high-jack one of the cars out front, and go for a joyride?"

Bruce thought about it, frowning at the many disastrous endings that played through his mind as a result. "Uh… how about we just slip away while they're not looking and spoil our dinner at an ice cream parlor?"

Selina sighed, but seemed to accept this. After all, she WAS trying to rely on Bruce of all people for a crime. "I guess that'll work… you are just no fun, ya know that? One of these days, kid, I'm gonna teach ya to high-jack a car."

"I don't think so." Was Bruce's only reply, but still, it occurred to him that he might have to learn the skill one day, especially considering his ultimate endgame in the coming years. "Actually… I might take you up on that one day." He decided, smiling, even as Jim dolled out Penguin's future Hell while Bullock looked on proudly. It was just one of those days.

* * *

 **~Bullock~**

"You're not a very responsible adult, are you, detective?" Bruce asked, as if he was really just coming to this conclusion. He was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at the scantily clad woman on the stage in front of him.

"Nope." Bullock answered honestly, getting on his tiptoes to slip a twenty dollar bill into the stripper's underwear, giving her ass a soft slap, making her giggle affectionately at him. "But ya gotta admit, this is a lot better than sitting in a boring police office all day."

"I beg to differ." Bruce chopped out, giving the woman on-stage an unimpressed look. "I don't really see the appeal in this. She's just dancing in her underwear." He pointed out, though he was ignored by everyone watching the performance.

"If I weren't busy watching her dance, I'd punch you, kid." Selina promised, eyes glued to the stripper as she danced and showed off everything she had to the audience. "I gotta admit, she's got some killer moves, detective."

"Hell yeah she does." Bullock replied, voice a bit distant, as he was too entranced to really pay Selina's comment much mind, save for the basics of the compliment. "Her names Lexy Lance by the way. God, she's beautiful."

Bruce rolled his eyes, forever unimpressed by Bullock and Selina's attraction towards the stripping woman. With a huff of annoyance, he walked away from his two companions, walking towards a mini bar off to the side of the stripper club. The music was loud and head-splitting, but Bruce managed as he took a seat at the bar, rubbing his fingers into his temple to try and rid himself of the migraine worthy headache. Out of nowhere, a hand reached up, pressing the side of a glass of ice water to Bruce's forehead. The boy lurched back, surprised and ready to scream, but a quick hand reached forward, covering the millionaire's mouth to quiet the incoming screech. Bruce stared at the stranger, looking a bit scared to be honest.

"I-I'm sorry." The stranger whispered, keeping his voice down. It was incredibly soothing compared to the near-explosive music. "I didn't mean to spook you. I'm Jerome by the way. Jerome Valeska." He smiled, although it was terrifying in nature, something that put Bruce off quite a bit. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I saw you were in pain, so I thought I'd try and help." He explained, giving Bruce a smaller smile, holding his hands up in surrender.

Bruce Wayne studied Jerome carefully. The boy was clearly older than him- maybe in his late teens to early twenties- had fiery red hair, and stunning green eyes. He had an off-putting air to him, something Bruce couldn't quite ignore, but for whatever reason, he could tell that Jerome meant no harm. For now, that is. The man was very clearly dangerous in Bruce's eyes, making him uncomfortable. Jerome wore old, raggedy looking clothes, torn hand-me-downs more than likely given to him by a relative or family friend. He had a hole in his left shoe, and his legs kept twitching, a give-away Bruce knew was a sign of social anxiety. He'd been reading up on medical documents as of late.

"I-It's okay. Thanks." Bruce eventually replied, internally cursing himself for not trying to sound more tough and powerful, and less like a little kid. "So… what brings you to a place like this anyhow?"

"I could ask you the same question." Jerome countered, letting out a loud, bone-chilling laugh afterwards, giving Bruce a rough pat on the back before he straightened, regaining his composure to a certain degree. "But if you must know, my mother brought home a drunken asshat again, so she sent me out to 'have some fun for a change'."

"Oh… sorry." Bruce muttered, not knowing what else to say. Jerome was giving him a weird vibe, and not the regular weird vibe you might find at a strip club. No, this was bigger, bigger than Bruce could really perceive at his age, like this meeting was destined yet haunted all at once. Just the thought made him shiver with dread. "A-Are you at least having fun?"

Jerome's left eye twitched, and Bruce could almost see death staring him in the face, before Jerome's expression changed entirely, his grin returning as he patted Bruce a little too hard on the shoulder, making the billionaire start to shake slightly out of fear. "What's your name, kid?" It wasn't a question. It was an order.

Bruce swallowed around a hot lump in his throat, feeling the world slow down around him as he sat there in the stool, wishing for someone to just come and save him already. "I-I don't… I don't think I should tell you that, Jerome."

Jerome tilted his head, and Bruce, for whatever reason, had a flash image go through his mind, like a vision of the future- "Am I scaring you, Batsy?" The clown stepped closer, grinning from ear to ear, blood all over his perfect purple coat. "Am I really scaring the big, bad-"- he snapped out of it, and it was gone, only remembered in a haze. "I think you should really tell me your name, kiddo. Don't worry… I ain't gonna hurt ya…" He promised, voice husky as he grinned at Bruce, like he was a tiny prey animal, just ready to be gnawed on.

Bruce started to slip backwards out of his chair- to escape or out of fright, no one may ever know- when Bullock caught him, steadying the boy on the bar stool. "Easy there, kid. Can't have you getting hurt on my watch, else Jim's gonna kick my ass." Bullock looked up from where he was holding Bruce, giving Jerome a confused look. "Who the Hell is this guy, Bruce?"

"Oh… so his name is Bruce?" Jerome asked, giving Bruce a wicked smile. The billionaire cringed, something Selina caught sight of. "What a… fitting name." There were no real compliments in his voice, only a threatening undertone that could make anyone want to lock their doors at night.

"Hey." Selina stepped in-between the bar stools separating Bruce and Jerome, giving the older boy a sharp look. "Leave my friend alone. You got that, punk?"

"This your girlfriend, Brucy?" It wasn't a question. Jerome giggled like a child, voice turning high pitched as he grinned again from ear to ear, like in Bruce's already forgotten vision. "She's pretty cute… for a street rat." He stood up, ruffling Bruce's hair as he passed by the boy. "See ya around, Bruce my boy!" It was a promise. That much Bruce knew.

Even after he was gone and Bullock was driving Bruce and Selina back to the police station to get chewed out by Gordon for taking them to a strip club, Bruce felt chills running down his spine, making him shake slightly in the car. Selina reached out and grabbed Bruce's wrist, steadying the young boy. "Hey… you okay, kid?" She asked, giving him a worried look.

Bruce nodded, pulling away from Selina to almost curl in on himself, frightened still of the forgotten vision in his head. "Y-Yeah, just… I hope Alfred gets us soon. I think I'm catching something." It was a straight-up lie, but Selina didn't mention it.

"Alright." She agreed, like she knew exactly how Bruce felt- creeped out and full of dread- which she probably did. "Talk to me if you need to, 'kay?"

He probably needed to, right then, but somehow, Bruce couldn't find the courage to say even one, single, word.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed this fic! I wrote this awhile back, and am only now editing it, so this is all set roughly around before Riddler killed that one cop-guy and right after Fish left. Please R &R!**

 **~Supercasey.**


End file.
